


Last To Know

by DarkAlpha67



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Affectionate Sterek, Background Melissa McCall/Sheriff Stilinski - Freeform, Background Relationships, Bartender Derek Hale, Caring Derek Hale, Cheating, Complicated Relationships, Drunk Stiles Stilinski, Drunkenness, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, Heartache, Infidelity Outside of Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Kissing, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Malia is a Hale, Married Melissa McCall/Sheriff Stilinski, Minor Cora Hale/Lydia Martin, Past Sexual Relationship Between Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate, Past Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate, Pregnant Erica Reyes, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, So Little Time, Stiles Stilinski & Malia Tate Friendship, Sweet Derek Hale, so much to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 09:40:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22493959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAlpha67/pseuds/DarkAlpha67
Summary: A drunk Stiles nurses his broken heart after walking in on his girlfriend cheating on him.  Heartbroken and at a bar, Stiles meets a kind bartender who was about to change everything for him.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski/Original Female Character(s), Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Comments: 22
Kudos: 600





	Last To Know

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, Everyone! Gosh, this fic has been sitting on my desktop of years, incomplete with no ending in sight until a few days ago when I got inspired. It was supposed to be short but the story itself got a head of me.
> 
> I want to warn everyone that the relationships within are complicated. I had a backstory in mind and that just got more tangled up from there, so I hope that it's clear enough to understand and I apologize if its not. In the end notes, the relationships are broken down.
> 
> Personally, I looked at it as the Universe trying everything in its power to get Stiles and Derek to meet.
> 
> This fic is, in my opinion unrealistic and it took everything in me not to make it more realistic, but I wanted it to be that way. 
> 
> The title of the fic is from a song by Three Day's Grace called Last to Know which you should give a listen to because it gives you the feel of the fic.
> 
> Apologies for any and all mistakes.
> 
> I hope you like it!<3 <3

He couldn’t believe this.

As Stiles Stilinski sat on a bar stool, contemplating the events that occurred less than three hours ago, the people around him were chatting, happily oblivious to everything, and he hated them. He hated that they could smile with one another, that they openly showed affection to one another, giving power to those selfish bastards that would crush their hearts in a second.

Like that—

Stiles, glowering down at the alcohol before him, raised the glass and drowned the strong liquid, welcoming the way it burned his throat on its way down. He looked up, his vision hazy, his mind fuzzy but still, the image was still there. Like a fucking X-ray image, burned into his eyeballs.

He signalled the bartender and tapped his glass, indicating another round. The thirty-something man looked hesitant. He had been eyeing Stiles since he saw him walk in, slumped down by the bar counter and ordered a whisky, neat.

Stiles glared at him and the man got to work. He walked over; his green eyes boring into Stiles as he poured him another glass.

“You might want to consider slowing down.” He said, his voice deep and sympathetic.

Stiles, taking the glass, made a show of bringing it to his lips and taking a hefty sip. “How about you mind your own fucking business? Hmm? Ever consider doing that?”

The Bartender whose name tag was nothing but a blur to Stiles, glared at him and then walked away.

_Good, walk the fuck away. Like he knows what the fuck is going on with Stiles. He didn’t know shit._

Shit. That--- How could she fucking do that?!

He ducked his head mournfully, his heart burning from pain or the alcohol, Stiles wasn’t sure. His mind replayed the scene over and over. He should have just gone to Lydia. Why did he go over to her place? He should have just gone to Lydia like he’d planned but no, he wanted to see her and then…

He saw her.

Oh, he saw all of her…

_Three hours ago, he had been happy. He had been content with his life. He had gotten off work early, or if you could call 11 PM early. He sent her text letting her know he was one his way._

_Diana Haze was fierce reporter who had a love for finding the truth and getting the word out to people all around Washington. Everyone knew Diana and everyone asked Stiles, who was an FBI agent, what he was doing dating a reporter and Stiles always told them the same thing: That he wasn’t dating a reporter, he was dating a beautiful woman who just so happened to work at Washington Times._

_Lydia and Scott thought he was a moron and was just asking for trouble._

_“Why, Stiles? Why do you have to go for the hard relationships? Why not just go to a bar, pick up someone?” Scott had said when Stiles first talked to him about Diana. “I could hook you up with someone.”_

_Stiles had rolled his eyes. “You mean, you’ll get Lydia to hook me up with someone. Awesome, just what I need. To date a lawyer. Besides, the last time I picked someone up at a bar, I ended up being best friends with her.”_

_In the end they let him be and Stiles and Diana proved to them that nothing, not their jobs and not people’s opinion, would get in the way of their relationships._

_As Stiles parked outside her apartment complex, he saw her bedroom light was still on. It had been a strange sight because usually it was the kitchen light, which also lit the living room that was usual on, since Diana loved to work at home._

_Stiles, with naive excitement, had walked up the elevator. He had a key, so he didn’t need to be buzzed in. The doorman, Martin Cakes (Poor guy) had looked at him with shock and worry. Another sign that Stiles should have turned the fuck around._

_He had walked eagerly to her apartment door, knowing better than to make an announcement that he’s there. Stiles learned the hard way that Diana hated being distracted from her work, so he just let himself in._

_What a fucking stupid move._

_He heard noises coming from her bedroom and considered briefly that maybe moved her working area to the bed like Stiles had been telling her to after she complained about her back aches from having to bend forward due to the low coffee table._

_Shaking his head fondly, Stiles had made his way to her room. He opened the door, opening his mouth to greet her when everything inside him turned to ice at the scene before._

“Alright, I’m cutting you off.”

Stiles' head whipped up from his now empty glass and he squinted at the man before him. The bar seemed quieter and when Stiles lazily turned to look over his shoulder, he saw he, along with another man, was the only people here.

“Do you have a cell? Someone you can call to pick you up?”

Someone he could call… Yeah, he had someone he could call. Someone he could talk to and maybe swear at. But she’s probably busy, you know, getting her brains screwed out by whoever the fuck had been with her.

“That’s unfortunate but I meant someone who you trust. A friend? Anyone?”

_What?_

Stiles squinted over to the man before him, “Are you reading my mind?”

The bartender sighed and shook his head as if Stiles was exhausting. Well, nobody asked him to come over here and talk to him. He was fine on his own. He had his glass and himself. He didn’t need anyone.

Fuck, _everyone_.

“I’d rather not. Look, can you just give me your cell? I’d like to close up soon and I can’t do that if I have a customer that’s drunk off his ass.”

_Rude…_

“Do you have a cell?” The man asked him again.

Stiles grumbled as he patted himself down, hands searching until he found the hard surface of his phone. He pulled it out, tugging with an annoyed huff when the stupid big device got stuck in his pocket. Stupid small pocket.

Hands reached out and his phone was out of his hand a blink later. Frowning, Stiles stared down at his hands before something whispered to him to look up. He did so with distrustful eyes, gaping when he saw his phone, his phone, in the guy’s hands. He was typing something and then, he made a call.

 _How rude!_ Stiles didn’t know him! Who was to say Stiles had the minutes to waste on calls right now? It’s not like he had someone else to call. He did, but she was gone.

Far, far away…

A hand curled around his, squeezing gently. He looked up, and there they were again, those kind, freak of nature, fairy tale eyes.

“It’s okay.” The guy said. “I’m just calling someone to come pick you up. It’s Stiles, right?”

He ripped his hand away. “How’s you know das?” He slurred, but he continued to glare even though he wasn’t sure if the guy understood him.

Mister Rude and Invasive smiled. “Malia said so.”

“M’lia.” He sounded out. “Mmm…aaaa….leee…yaaaaa.” His slips started spreading as humor bubbled up from nowhere. He knew Malia. Malia, Malia, Malia. Close and Similar to Lydia… But not.

The guy grinned. “That so?”

Stiles nodded, but he didn’t know for what. Although, this guy might be reading his mind. With eyes like that, there was a chance he could read Stiles’ mind—Wait! He squinted and silenced his thoughts, wondering if the guy could hear anything.

“I can’t hear anything.”

Shock filtered through the humor. “You _can_ read minds.”

The guy snorted. “Apparently. Just don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.” Stiles made a show of zipping his lips. “Just ask Scott. He once told me about that time he gave Isaac a blow job back in high school. He told me not to tell anyone, ‘cause now, Allison is dating Isaac and she don’t know Scott gave him a blow job, once.”

“Shit.” The guy was making a weird face. “I—” He chuckled. “You’re a good secret keeper.”

“I know.” He looked down then. “Gi’mme your hands.”

“Why?”

“Because… My hands are cold. And you got soft and warm hands.”

There they were! Stiles eagerly took those hands in his, sandwiching his one in between them before he did the same with the other. It was sad that he couldn’t make a double sandwich, where both his hands were the cheese and the guy’s hand was the whole wheat bread.

“Nice hands…” He said to them.

“Thank you.”

Stiles pouted. “Sorry… I wazzn’t ta’king to you. I wazzz talking to yer hands.”

“Oh.” The guy gave him a nice smile. “They told me to say thanks.”

Stiles grinned, happy that he had made someone happy… Because he clearly couldn’t make anyone else happy. He tried, he did. He’d made an effort to be there for Diana, he tried to be the man she wanted. He even grew out his hair because she said she liked it long and brushed back and he hated that look. It made him look like a douchey MTV star.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry.”

Oh, fuck. He was crying? Why the fuck was he crying?!

“Look, it’s--- Hey! Look, it’s Malia.” The guy exclaimed, but he was probably lying. Everyone lies. He ducked his head, trying to hide his face and the pain only increased when those hands that was so warm and soft were taken away from him.

The sob was lodged in his throat when arms wrapped around him, hands cupping his face to turn it their way. The second he caught the scent he instantly knew who was holding him, because she always smelt like a blend of different summer fruits because of her strawberry shampoo and conditioner, her sweet pomegranate body wash that always clung to her skin. She was his best hugging pillow whenever he was sad.

“It’s okay, Stiles.” She said to him as if she heard him.

“She cheated, Mal.” Stiles managed out.

He felt her chest vibrate. “I’ll kill her, later. Right now, all I care about is getting you home and into a bed.”

He shook his head. “Y…rrss..” His tongue felt heavy.

“Okay.” She tightened her hold on him. “Wanna get out of here?”

He nodded and with all the strength he had left, he pushed himself up. At his full height, he was little taller than her, so he moved his body at an awkward angle to rest his head on her shoulder. The silence was a lot, it made his pain louder, a burning scream that was hard to ignore.

His lips were raw from where he’d been biting on it in a vain attempt to keep in the sobs that racked through his body like the shock waves from an earthquake silent.

Somebody took his arm and slung it across their neck. With Malia pressed against his, he felt his feet moving, guiding him away from the bar that was warm and safe and that had Mr Impossible Eyes.

Cold air stung his face, and he welcomed the pain. Anything was better than what was going on inside of him. His body convulsed and clenched, searching for the missing part that he didn’t want anywhere near him. The poison that was her absence scorched his heart and soul. His mind attempted to protect him from the magnitude of his pain by focusing his attention on Malia’s touch and the strong warm hand that held his, securing his arm around the heated neck.

He tipped his head to the side, and Malia pressed her head against his.

“I’m going to let Derek take you, okay, so that I can opened the car.”

Derek…?

“Me.” A deep voice said into his ear.

Stiles’ head turned toward the sound and there they were, those eyes.

His left side was cold, and his body tipped forward, but the arm his waist held him up. He pressed up against Rude But Nice Derek, who was smiling at him. Seeing that smile took away a bit of the pain the Diana had inflicted. He felt better here, with Derek.

He looked like that kind of guy that would never ever cheat on him.

“You’re right.” Derek read his mind again.

Stiles smiled but it felt sad, his lips too heavy to lift completely. “Too bad I... didn’t meet you… B’fore.”

He blinked when Derek took his eyes away from him, but Diana took herself away, too, so what did he expect? He sighed as Derek let him go and Stiles let himself be guided into a seat, the smell letting him know its Malia’s car.

He leaned against the seat, exhaling when the cold air was taken away. His moment of solitude was snatched away by a loud bang that exploded his mind.

“Sorry.” He heard Derek say. “I was just closing the door.”

Stiles tipped his head to the side and forced his eyes open and saw Derek’s face right there. The window was open, but the night made his eyes all dark and grey. Stiles looked at his nose and his fingers move to poke at his hairy cheeks. The hair there was soft, but also a little picky when he moved his finger up instead of down.

“It was nice meeting you, Stiles.”

Stiles wanted to say something, but Malia’s nice comfy car made his tongue heavy, his words lazy and his eyes weighted. He sighed and just gave in, letting the bubble of sadness overtake him. He felt his hand being moved, gingerly placed on his lap. It was squeezed by warm hands and the feeling remained there long after it was taken away, like Derek was there holding his hand through his pain.

Malia’s noisy car made his head hurt, but she helped but running her fingers through his hair like she used to do when he had a migraine.

When he came to, he was being dropped onto a soft pillow that smelt like Malia. He pressed his face into the scent and sunk into it.

“Thanks, Mal.” He said to the pillow.

*

After a horrific morning where the sun seemed to be out to get him, Malia handed him her hangover remedy with a sympathetic wince. She gave him something for the headache and lend him her sunglasses.

She sat with him, called Lydia and Scott who came over that very morning. They all sat there, surrounding him on the couch, listening as Stiles gave them the gist of the moments leading up to the ending of his first long term relationship. He didn’t shed a tear, which he was thankful for. It was embarrassing enough having proven his friends right about a woman he was planning on proposing to but to cry in front of them would be a hole he didn’t want to fall into.

Lydia and Scott offered to go over to her place to get his things, but Stiles shook his head, saying he’d do it. Not only did he need to face her and look her in the eye, but he knew if Lydia or Malia went, they’d get sued for assault and he didn’t want that.

“Good thing you didn’t move into her place.” Scott spoke up when Stiles was finally done explain and working out the whole thing.

All eyes turned to him, Lydia giving him a ‘really?’ look, Malia nodding, lips pulled in upside down smile, while Stiles just stared.

Scott’s eyes widened. “What? I’m looking at the silver lining.” He gave Stiles a grin. “And that is that tomorrow you and I are gonna spend a day at your place and play video games.”

Malia scoffed. “Nice. Using your best friend’s heart break as an excuse to lazy around for the day.”

Scott slung an around across Stiles neck. “I would never. And I am insulted that you would even say that.”

“To be fair, I did it with him when Allison broke up with him.” Stiles forced a light tone.

“She didn’t break up with me. We ended things mutually.”

Lydia nodded, pouting her lips in mock understand. “We know, Scott.”

“Thank you, Lydia.” He looked at Stiles. “I’m here for you buddy.” His sincere puppy eyes softened the jagged rock in his stomach. This was his brother, in everything but blood.

Stiles’ lips tugged up and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against Scott’s shoulder.

He went over to her place the next day. Malia picked him up, glaring silent any protests he may have had. With her 67 Charger as their battleship, Stiles and Malia drove to Diana’s place. He didn’t keep much of his stuff there, but they were still valuable things.

With rock music playing in the background, because Malia said it would calm him and hype him up, Stiles mentally listed all his possession.

1\. A photograph of him and his friends.

2\. A photo of him and his dad

3\. His odd assortment of clothes and work suit

4\. His hoodie that’d she’d claimed as her own (he wasn’t sure he wanted it back)

5\. His spare charger

6\. His underwear etc.

7\. His games

8\. His dvd’s (because he was old school and had wanted to share something like that with her).

Malia’s car rumbled to a stop outside her apartment complex. She cut the engine and turned to him, her dark eyes hard and promising.

“You’re not out in 20 minutes, I’m coming in after you.”

He smiled at her. Malia had been an unexpected friend. They had met a bar one day when he’d recently moved to Washington. They had shared a few drinks and then a bed that night. She gave him her number, saying she had a good time and that she wouldn’t mind doing it again.

And _again_ , they did.

They had entered into a purely sexual relationship which lasted for four months, and during that time they had developed a friendship, one that had a form of intimacy he didn’t share with his other friends. Stiles remembered looking at her one day: they had been in their underwear playing Mortal Kombat in his apartment and thinking: _She might be one of my best friends._

And he’d blurted out those very words second later. She’d paused the game, squinted at him as if thinking it through before agreeing with him. She had been the one to suggest they quit sleeping together, and just hang out, see if they had just as much fun and they did. They never had again after that.

A month later Malia met Theo (Her now ex -boyfriend), and a year later Stiles was introduced to Diana.

Now, looking at her, he felt the burden of what he was about to do lessen. “I love you.” He said to her.

And he did.

Malia grinned at him and with that spark of joy, Stiles exited the car, cardboard box in hand, heading for the entrance door. He pressed the buzzer and stared back at Malia who jokingly sliced her thumb across other throat, tonguing poking out.

The humor that bubbled up was smothered by the sound of her voice.

“Hello.”

Stiles stared at the speaker, a sour taste filling his mouth. “It’s Stiles, I’m here for my stuff.”

There was pause and then he was buzzed in. Taking in a deep breath, Stiles opened the door and walked into. He smiled at the doorman, a new guy he didn’t recognize. He jogged up the steps, each one feeling like a weight in his stomach and a dagger to his heart.

He reached the third floor out of breath and not because of the steps.

Stiles made his way to her door and knocked. His shattered heart hammering against his chest as he heard the shuffling of her feet, his mind immediately knowing she had on her fluffy socks because she enjoyed sliding across the floor.

The lock was turned, the chain unlinked and the white barrier between them was open. Bright blue eyes met his, the regret and pain clear.

“Stiles—”

He cut her off by moving past her without a word, eyes scanning the apartment. “I have a box. I’m just here for my things.”

“Stiles, please, listen-”

The closeness of her voice jerked him forward. He headed for the first thing he saw which were his DVD’s and games. Kneeling, Stiles packed them all away, jaw clenching, throat swallowing in a firm attempt to keep the tears at bay. Her heard her sniff, heard her shuffling behind. He wanted to look, see for himself if she truly regretted what she did but he didn’t.

Once his things were in, he picked up the box and stormed to her bedroom. His stomach turned when his eyes fell on the rumpled bed. Flashes of her bare back and that guy’s arms around her naked form twisted the dagger deeper into his heart. He remembered sleeping there, and he wondered if he’d been sharing a pillow with this guy and hadn’t know it.

With a thick swallow, Stiles turned and headed for the closet. He opened it, lowered his box to the ground and grabbed all his clothes that was there in one swoop. It was more than he’d expected and that only seemed to hurt him more. He didn’t care about folding them, he just tossed them all in the box.

“Stiles, please just listen to me. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to do it. It just happened. He meant nothing to me, you have to believe—”

Stiles turned and glared at her. “I don’t.” He growled at her.

Tears pooled in her eyes and he watched it spill down her cheeks as she flinched at his tone. Her arms wrapped around her waist and a part of him, the part that still loved this woman hated hurting her like that.

He forced his attention away, his heart aching when her sob reached his ears.

He saw his hoodie and without another word, he took that too. He moved into the bathroom, looking around. It hurt seeing his brand of body wash standing beside hers, remembering those moments when they’d laugh and shower together.

Seeing nothing that he couldn’t replace, Stiles turned away and walked out.

“Baby, please, listen to me.” She stepped in front of his, her hands framing his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

Stiles glare at her, hating his body and emotions for betraying him when he felt that familiar burning behind his eyes. “Was this the first time?”

Her broken expression was answer enough. Nodding, both to her and to himself, accepting and forcing this toxic information into his brain, Stiles twisted his head, getting out of her hold, not wanting to touch her. He moved for his box. It was light and heavy all at the same time.

Stiles walked out of the bedroom door; his eyes fixed on the front door. He opened it with his one hand. He moved to walk out but something in him made him pause. The memory of her broken expression and regretful eyes urged him to turn around, meeting her tear stained face.

A hopeful light picked up her feature.

“I hope you have good life. Take care of yourself.” He said. And then he stepped out and closed the door behind her, cutting off her sobs which struck him like a hard punch to the gut.

He walked down the steps with heavy legs. A despondent relief claimed him when he walked out and was greeted by Malia standing there, leaning against the car, eyes burning into the building.

The second he stepped out, she made her way over to him, taking the box from his hands. He followed her numbly, watching as she opened the car door and placed the box inside. She slammed the door shut and turned to him.

“Burgers and shakes?”

He let out a croaking laugh. “Fuck, yes.”

With a lopsided smile, she rounded the car. Stiles opened the passenger door and was about to climb in when he saw Malia freeze, looking up. She glared and lifted her hand, middle finger up. Stiles spun and looked up to see the curtain in Diana’s apartment fall shut.

“There.” Malia said and when Stiles turned back to look at her, she had a satisfied looked in her eye. “Now we can leave.”

_*_

His life didn’t stop just because his heart got broken.

The next Monday he was back at work and when his partner asked him how his week was, and why he looked so worn, he told her the truth, that he and Diana had broken up.

She was apologetic and when she asked why, he lied and said they were just not seeing eye to eye on some things.

Tessa “Mercy” Mercer nodded and accepted the answer. He knew she knew he was lying through his teeth. She was cool like that. A red head that could Natasha Romanoff to shame, Mercy was the badass to Stiles’ ordinary.

They worked well together; had since the day she was transferred after she’d punched her last partner in the nose for sexual harassment. No one wanted to work with her because they were too scared of the scrutiny and those who didn’t mind her were already partnered up. Stiles had been new and had gotten her as a ‘testing out the newbie’ and he would forever be grateful for that decision.

He enjoyed working with her. She was street smart, inquisitive and he knew that with her by his side, his six would be safe. She enjoyed working with him, because he didn’t look down on her and allowed her to take the lead on some cases. The FBI was a man-driven organisation and she had to work hard to get where she was and she’d revealed on their first year anniversary (That Stiles had wanted to celebrate) that he was probably the first agent who didn’t try to flirt with her and that made her comfortable in way she had never been able to.

“Stilinski. Case closed. Wanna go out for a drink?” She asked and Stiles nodded.

He left the bar that night feeling a bit better. As he got into bed that night, his heart still missing Diana and hating it, he reminisced on the day and he had found some form of comfort in the fact that he wasn’t completely broken by this. His work wasn’t affected, and his friends were still there.

He knew with time it would get better, as all scars did.

He just needed to breathe and take it one day at a time.

_*_

He was at Scott’s house with Malia when he heard about Derek again.

“Derek’s having a barbecue next weekend, you guys game?”

Stiles froze and looked up at Malia. She was deep in her noodles and she didn’t notice his blush or his imploring stare.

“Derek? Your scary Batman cousin?”

“You know any other Derek’s, Scott?”

Dark eyes finally lifted and met his. A flicker of understanding passed through and Stiles prayed she didn’t mention his embarrassing encounter with Derek. He didn’t remember much of that night, but he remembered touching the guy inappropriately and running his mouth about his eyes or something embarrassing like that.

“You know Derek?” He asked Scott.

Scott nodded his head from side to side. “A little. He’s Isaac’s brother, remember? I heard about him a couple of time after the adoption went through, and then met him in person when he came over to Malia’s house a few months ago.”

Stiles didn’t ask what he was doing at Malia’s house. It’s been only been few months since Stiles noticed the shift in Scott and Malia’s relationship. It was subtle but it was there. He didn’t voice it, waiting for one of them to bring it up and they hadn’t yet.

“Yeah, his having this thing. Said you guys are free to come.” She looked between Stiles and Scott.

They shared a glance and nodded, agreeing, because free food and beer.

They went back to their game, the moment forgotten but the nervous twist in his stomach remained a nuisance his whole visit there.

That night, Stiles got more glimpses of Derek. He remembered how kind he’d been, though he can’t remember his specific acts of kindness, just that he was a kind dude. He remembered those eyes that was grey, or green or hazel. He wasn’t sure.

He called Malia to try and clear things up but all she said was, “He has green-grey eyes and you weren’t embarrassing. You did touch his beard and said it was soft but that’s about it. He didn’t mention anything weird to me about what happened before I got there.”

Stiles drifted off that night that that nagging nervous ball in his stomach.

_*_

The day of the barbecue came so fast that it only hit him that morning when Lydia showed up because she needed a ride, because apparently, she knew Derek too.

“I work with his sister at the law firm.” She revealed absentmindedly as she scrolled through his playlist. “I told you about her, Laura Hale.”

Stiles nodded, because she had told him about Laura Hale and how amazing she was. Stiles went over the list of people he knew that were connected to Derek and he was starting to wonder how in God’s name he never met this guy before his Never-To-Be-Mention-Drunk-Encounter.

“And why was he never at our gatherings?” Stiles asked because he remembered going to someone’s house for a gathering and seeing Isaac there and Malia there, both of whom were related to Derek. If Isaac was dating Allison, he was sure she knew Derek, too. And Scott knew Derek and Lydia probably knew the family intimately given how close she was to Laura.

“He’s a very private person, I guess. Keeps close to those he is close with. Plus, he was away for a while, so nobody really saw him during that time. Believe me, I was shocked at how close we were to the Hale’s individually. It took getting used to know you were sleeping with my co-worker’s cousin.”

“I didn’t know Malia was a Hale.” Stiles defended himself.

And he didn’t. She introduced herself as Malia Tate and he knew her as Malia Tate until he ran into her and Laura one day at a diner and discovered Malia was Laura Hale’s cousin. The family found out about her when she was 18 and apparently the Hale siblings wanted to meet her, so they tracked her down to her hometown in Chicago. At the time Malia had been finding her footing after aging out of the foster system. She had given him watery smile when she’d told how grateful she had been to know she had a family who wanted her.

“I know, which is why I didn’t make a big deal out of it when I found out.”

He smiled, looking away the road to do so. “Be honest, you were just happy I was getting some.”

She wrinkled her nose. “That too.”

He laughed.

“I am just happy you two ended in on good terms.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I told you it wouldn’t be complicated. Malia and I were just two friends having fun. We didn’t think of each other _that_ way.”

“In what way, Stiles?” She asked. “In the way were you like someone, can spend time with them, have sex with them and can still stand them even after you’ve had your orgasm.”

He nodded, stubbornly. “Exactly like that. And before you twist my words and make it sound like a relationship. Malia and I love each other but we aren’t in love with each other. It’s just… not there for us.”

“So, I’ve heard.”

They dropped that topic which Stiles was grateful for.

Before he knew it, he was pulling into the address Malia had sent them, parking behind an expensive looking SUV. A few cars lined the street outside a two-story home. Stepping out, Stiles heard voices drifting from where he could only assume was the back of the house.

“Nice place.”

He looked down at his plaid shirt and jeans. He was now so thankful Lydia had talked him out of wearing a graphic shirt and chucks and told him to be a grown up, tossing a tank top at him which he was ordered to wear under his shirt. She’s forcefully halfway buttoned up the purple and black plaid shirt, roll up his sleeves, and instructed him to wear the black boots she’d gotten him for his birthday last year.

Lydia looked like she’d fit right in with all these cars in her light blue floral dress, but she was always a sophisticated woman, even high school. Together they made their way to the front door and knocked.

“Coming!” They heard.

The door opened and Stiles’ jaw dropped when he was greeted by a familiar face. Her hair was in a messy pixie cut instead of long and pulled back into a ponytail like it used to be.

“Holy Shit! Cora?”

“Hey, Stilinski!” She grinned up at him, the surprise on her face giving way to humor. “Look at you, still rocking the jeans and plaid. Thank god, they fit you now at least.” She looked over at Lydia and her grin turned saucy. “Looking good, Martin.”

His lips formed an ‘o’ as he looked between the two.

“Hale.” Lydia greeted coolly. “Are you going to let us in?”

With a smirk, Cora stepped aside. “Everyone’s out back. Stilinski, you can help me get the case of beers.”

He followed Cora to the kitchen, eyes moving around the house. It looked comfy and homely. The walls were decorated with an art piece here or there, photos of some of the Hales that he had met, lining the walls. There was a picture of Malia - and his heart stuttered when the man he’d only ever been able to remember in fragments was gifted to him in the form of a beautiful photo. With a park of the background, a grinning Derek Hale looked back at him, carrying a laughing Malia on his shoulders. His beaming smile revealed two adorable bunny teeth, his hard features was smoothed out and damn….

“So, how’ve you been, Stilinski? Still that stumbling, babbling idiot?” Cora asked, her voice carrying from the kitchen.

When he entered, he saw she had a peach in her hand which she bit into with gusto, clearly not in a hurry to get what she was told to.

“I’ve been good. Got into the FBI and now I am a functioning member of society. How about you? Still beating up boys for looking at you wrong?”

That had been how he’d met Cora. She was a freshman during her short stay in Beacon Hills (Stiles’ hometown) while he’d been a junior. Stiles had been on his way to his car when he heard some guys from the lacrosse team cat-calling a girl. He was about heading over there, ready to put them in their place. He arrived just in time to see Cora Hale in all her tiny glory kicking Justin in the nuts.

She’d seen him and his uniform and had wiggling her fingers beckoning him forward, “you want to join your friends?”

Stiles had looked down at Justin in disgust, remembering how he’d said some homophobic shit about Danny before Danny and Jackson set his straight.

“These assholes aren’t my friends.” He’d said.

She nodded. “Keep it that way.”

He’d seen her around school after the incident, and though they never hanged out with each other, they struck up the odd conversation here and there. She left the next year with Isaac, who by that time had been officially and legally adopted by Talia Hale.

Cora laughed at his joke. “I actually travel now. I’m a freelance photographer so I get to see the world and get paid for my photos. When I’m not travelling, I live in Hawaii with my mom.”

“Wow! How many places do you still have left to see?”

“Fifteen.” She grinned, her brown eyes lighting up with excitement.

“You should email me the sites where your work is on.”

She nodded, happily. She bit into her peach and nodded to the red cooler by her feet. He got the message and, with tight grips on opposites sides, he helped carry the heavy box out, letting Cora guide him through sliding doors that opened up into a big back yard, the sound of bustling voices igniting a spark of excitement within him.

“Stiles!” He heard from Scott, Isaac, and Malia.

“About fucking time, Cora!” A blond called out, rushing over to them.

They had just put it down before she opened it and pulled out two soda bottles. When she straightened up, Stiles got an eyeful of her protruding belly. Her summer dress softened the wild predatory look in her eyes when she set her sights on him.

Her grin turned wolfish. “Hey. Erica.” She pointed to herself.

Stiles nodded. “Stiles.”

“I figured.”

His confusion was cut short when a body shot over to him and arms wrapped around him in a tight hug. Her brown curls obstructed his view for a moment, but Stiles didn’t care as he happily returned her embrace.

“Hey, Ally.” He laughed when he heard her excited giggle. “Better watch it or Scarf's over there will get jealous.”

Allison pulled away; her dimpled smile wide as she slapped his arm. “Don’t start.”

Stiles winced dramatically, rubbing his arm. “It’s his fault.” And then, his eyes fell on Isaac and a particular memory came to mind.

_“Just ask Scott. He once told me about the first time he gave Isaac a blow job.”_

Mortification heated his face and he hurriedly covered it up with what he hoped was a convincing grin.

“How’ve you been? It’s been a while.”

She lived three hours away, so Stiles never got to see her and given he was best friends with her ex, he knew the chances of it happening outside a social gathering like this was slim.

“I’ve been great. I saw you and Tessa caught that serial killer.”

Stiles nodded but offered nothing on that.

Thankfully, his attention was taken away from Scott who waved him over, with a “yo, Stiles!”

He tipped his head to Cora who was busy with Erica, promised Allison he will catch up with her later before he headed over Scott who was standing beside a hulking man.

“Tell Boyd that I kicked ass in lacrosse. And also, that we had lacrosse at our school.”

Stiles looked at the man who he assumed was Boyd. He offered his hand, grinning and shaking his head. “I apologize for him, we raised him better. I’m Stiles.”

“Boyd.”

“Yeah, yeah, you know each other now and all, now Stiles, tell him.” Scott’s exclaimed.

With a bored expression, Stiles deadpanned. “He kicked as in lacrosse and we had lacrosse at our school.”

Scott gawped, mocking a betrayed gasp while Boyd snorted, bending forward so he didn’t spill his glass of beer and ice. Stiles slithered over and hooked an arm around Scott’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

“You know I love you. Lack of Sportsman skills, bad lungs, and all.”

Scott shoved his arm off. “You suck. I was tryna impress Boyd, here. You know he is a firefighter?”

Stiles looked over to other man. “Yeah?”

Boyd tipped his glass with a nod. “Four years and counting. You FBI?”

“Yeah.” Stiles smiled proudly.

Scott piped in. “Boyd used to work with Derek. So did his wife, they were on the same team.”

Stiles ignored the little butterfly kicking up a storm in his stomach while he forced a casual mask.

Boyd turned and pointed in the direction of Cora, Erica and Allison. “That’s her over there. Erica.”

“Oh, we met.” Stiles looked between Erica and Boyd, watching with humor as the blond turned to them, her eyes narrowing at Boyd. She lifted two fingers to her eyes, flicking them in Boyd’s direction before pointedly gesturing to her stomach.

Boyd laughed and lifted his glass. “It’s apple juice!”

“It better be!” She shouted back.

Isaac and Laura who had heard and witnessed the exchange proceeded to make a whipping sound, flicking their hand to mimic the sound.

“Proudly!” Boyd called out to them.

Laughter left him as he watched the exchange between these people who he’d never known but kind of wished he’d had met sooner. The love and care they all had for each other was evident in the easy way they interacted with one another. It was clear Scott knew them well enough to be comfortable and Lydia was well integrated into the Hale family, not to mention Malia.

He felt like the outsider. A puzzle piece that didn’t have a place in this picture.

Clearing his throat, he turned to Boyd and Scott. “Know where I can get water?”

Boyd nodded toward the house. “Inside in the kitchen, I think.”

He frowned, hesitant. “Derek won’t mind a stranger wondering around his house?” Boyd waved a dismissive hand. “You’re not really a stranger. Go, it’s cool.”

After a pause of consideration, Stiles patted Scott on the shoulder, smiled at Boyd and left the pair to discuss whatever. He walked toward the direction he’d came in, heading for the kitchen, desperate for silence, a moment alone and a glass of water.

As he filled a plastic Finding Nemo cup, Stiles leaned back into the counter and took a sip. He knew this feeling of loneliness and isolation was because of Diana. She’d led him to believe that they would have a future together, and so he looked forward to that, moulding himself to fit with her. He’d always done that.

Change who he was to be what someone else needed him to be.

It never backfired, but it always felt him feeling incomplete.

She left her mark, that’s for sure.

Looking back on it, it was small things that he kicked himself for not noticing, given it was literally his job to notice small fucking things.

When a particular case kept him away from her, she’d smile at him and tell him she understood, yet she threw it back in his face by reminding him that she needed his time and attention, too. She never listened to him when he told her writing and publishing certain information could be detrimental to the case, stating it was her job to get the truth out, arguing that she never questioned his job, so why did he think he had the right to do it to her?

It was a continuous and never-ending argument, but it happened so seldom that he never saw it as a problem, just a small bump up in an otherwise happy relationships. And that had been one of his biggest mistakes with her.

He wasn’t blameless, he knew that, but… He just wished she’d talked to him instead of looking else where for what he wasn’t giving her.

A shadow passed in his peripheral and Stiles’ snapped up in time to see the dark shadow drift back to the entrance, head popping and… shit!

Eyes that were for real green-grey met his, thick eyebrows pulling together in an adorable frown—Okay, seriously what was wrong with him?

“Hey, you okay?”

He managed to force his head to cooperate and nodded. “Yeah, I just… needed a drink.” He lifted the Finding Nemo cup as evidence.

Soft lips framed by dark stubble quirked up. “I see.” His gaze intensified and Stiles felt himself shift. “I don’t know if you remember, but I—”

“No! I remember.” His face heated up when Derek’s eyes lit up at that. “Derek, the kind but rude bartender.”

A laugh so deep and soft left him. His reaction to this man only got worse when Derek positioned himself by the kitchen entrance, standing there all tall and perfect, leaning his shoulder against the wall. “I actually prefer Mind-Reader Derek.” His smile turned into a teasing grin and man, did that do something to his insides.

Embarrassment heated his cheeks. “Oh, God. I remember that. I was… I was thinking out loud.” He looked at Derek with apologetic eyes. “I tend to do that when I had a few too many to drink. I am sorry.”

Derek chuckled, his alluring eyes twinkling. “It’s okay. It was cute.”

Great! With his face practically burning, he felt like he was in a sauna.

Nodding, he bit his lips in fear that would say something stupid. He directed his attention elsewhere, his mind latching onto the first thing that seemed the safest bet. “Uh, Boyd said I could get myself a glass of water, I hope that’s okay.”

“Sure. _Mi casa es tu casa_.” His tongue rolled the syllables around, accenting the words.

“Thanks.” Stiles managed to respond like a normal person.

“Actually, I might need a glass, too.” Derek pushed off the wall and headed over for him.

His entire body tensed up in anticipating at the idea of being in close proximity with Derek. _Sober_. A minty fresh scent wafted up his nose as Derek came to stand up him, arm lifting to take a glass out the cabinet. Stiles’ eyes dropped and his heart skipped when he saw the dark happy trail that disappeared into low hung jean. His eyes snapped away when Derek’s shirt dropped and Stiles lifted his cup in his hand, resting his lips over the rim in pretense.

He inhaled as water gushed out and filled Derek’s glass.

He expected the other man to turn and head back but instead he turned and lean against the counter beside Stiles, moving over a bit so that there was some room for the Holy Spirit which Stiles was grateful for.

“So… How’ve you been?” The questioned was followed by a casual sip of water.

Stiles dropped his hand, his fingers gripping the plastic surface of the cup. He swallowed what little water he had in his mouth, turning to meet sincere eyes.

“I’m getting better.”

The corner of Derek’s lips lifted. “Good, I’m glad. You deserve better.”

Stiles cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? And how would you know? You don’t know me.” The words left his mouth harsher than intended.

The other man turned to him, unflinching at Stiles hostile tone. “I know enough.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes, the fluttering wings of his stomach butterfly now beating in agitation. He opened his mouth, but Derek, as if sensing the road this conversation was about to take them down, lifted a placating hand, holding off Stiles oncoming outburst.

“I just meant that Malia spoke about you a lot, as well as Isaac, and you don’t seem like the guy who deserved getting his heart broken the way you did. You loved her, maybe still do, and she betrayed that love, and no matter what, there’s never a good reason for that.”

Stiles stared up at Derek, hearing the certainty in his voice, and the underlying pain in it. “You talking from experience?”

Derek lifted his glass and took a drink. “You could say that.”

Stiles winced, hating the way he reacted now more than ever. “I’m sorry.”

Derek’s lips lifted and smoothed out into a gentle smile. “It’s in the past.” He gave Stiles a one-should shrug.

“Still.” Stiles insisted. The smile of Derek’s lips slipped a bit, the humor in his eyes hardening a touch as a serious expression crossed his features. The air between them shifted into something heavier. He felt the stirring within his stomach return, his palms getting all sweaty and his heart speeding up the longer those grey-green eyes bore down on him, kind and understanding.

Derek tipped forward a bit. “Thank you.”

Stiles swallowed, forcing his eyes not to drop to those lips that formed those soft words. He smiled up at Derek, his chest expanding when Derek leaned back again, the distance returning to safe and away from critical.

“Listen.” Derek started, his eyes dropping to his glass of water. Stiles noticed how his middle finger tapped at the glass – _tap, tap, tap-tap-_. “I know you’ve gone through something heavy, and I don’t expect an answer right now or anytime soon, but,” There they were, those damn beautiful and enticing eyes locked with his, “I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me some time.”

The air in his lungs stopped circulating and his heart slammed against his ribcage. “Go out?” He squawked out. “Like a date?”

For the first time since meeting this cool, calm and collected man, Stiles saw a crack in his confident exterior. At Stiles’ doubtful question, Derek’s eyes flickered away for a moment, revealing the way the tips of his ears turned red.

And it was the most fucking adorable thing Stiles had ever seen.

He was seconds away from saying just that, when Derek cleared his throat and turned back to him, meeting his imploring gaze unwavering. “Yes.” He answered clearly. “I like you. I don’t know you well enough to say that, I get that, but from what I have heard and what I’ve seen, you seem like someone I won’t regret.”

Stiles took in a shaky breath. “You know I slept with your cousin, right? And that my best friend’s ex might be your future sister in law and, if I am right, in a few years, that best friend will get married into your family, too. Also, if that happens, Malia will kind of be my in-law because Scott’s mom, Melissa, is married to my dad.” He babbled out. “You really—Are you sure you want to do this?”

Derek turned around, drowning the last bit of water in his glass like a vodka shot before placing it on the counter. The soft thud it made was so loud in the ensuing silence that followed Stiles’ self-sabotaging ramble.

“I know you don’t feel anything for Malia. And I am adult enough to understand the workings of casual sex.” His lips quirked up into a smirk for a brief moment before it dropped. “I know how messed up and complicated families can get but I know myself. I’m cautious. Some might say too cautious, but I never do anything unless I am absolutely sure I want it and I am completely willing to accept whatever the consequences my decision may bring.”

His words drew Stiles in. The more Derek spoke, the more Stiles wanted to scream at the top of his lungs that, Yes! He wanted to go out on date with Derek!

But his damaged heart and wounded psyche held him back. His opened his mouth, but his words were trapped in his throat. His expression twisted, his eyebrows drawing together in regret.

Derek’s determination softened as understanding washed over him. Stiles felt the regret prick at him, but the pain and frustration it induced was vanquished by the smile Derek flashed his way.

“Like I said. I’m willing to wait.” He stared at Stiles, pointedly, the promise clear in his words.

Even though he’d just gone through something that would make it damn near impossible to trust another stranger, he found himself believing Derek.

With his smile still there, Derek nodded to the cup in Stiles’ hand. “Drink up. I’m sure that others are waiting, and knowing my family, they probably think I snuck you away to have sex with you.”

Laughter burst out of him and the heaviness of the moment vanished. He drained the glass and placed it in the sink.

“Does that happen often?” He asked, following Derek as they felt the kitchen.

“No, that’s why they make those stupid bets because they know no one will have to pay up.”

The warmth in his heart spread all over and he couldn’t keep his laugh in when, the moment they entered the backyard, Erica ‘aww-ed’ loudly in disappointment.

Derek turned, lifting his eyebrows in a ‘see, I told you’ way before heading over to Malia and Lydia.

As he walked away, Stiles’ eyes lingered on his retreating form, his mind wondering and imagining what it would be like if he did say yes, if maybe this was the man, the person, he was always meant to place his trust in.

*

Two weeks after the barbecue, Stiles made a phone call.

“Hello?”

His heart fluttered wildly in his chest as he said, “Hey, Derek. It’s Stiles. Is that date still on the table?”

“Absolutely.”

His smile grew.

*

The laugh bubbling up from him was muffled against insistent lips. He attempted to speak, but the second he got a breath in, those sweet, soft and marvelous lips returned, sucking lightly on his bottom lip, drawing out moans and sighs.

“Hmm.” He sounded out. “Re-really? Now?” He managed out, trying to come off as disgruntled but his hands and body gave him away. Fingers were threaded through silky strands, holding this man close to him, his arm wrap wrapped loosely around his neck. His body curled into the Derek’s embrace, enjoying the way those arms felt circled around him, hands and fingers pressing him closer and closer, the cool ocean breeze unable to chase away the warmth he felt from simply being in Derek’s arms.

Derek’s nose bumped against his as he nodded, leaning in for three pecks as he said, “Yes. Really.” He drew back, allowing Stiles to breathe, patiently gazing into his eyes. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Stiles frowned incredulously. “You saw me last week.”

Derek’s nodded at him seriously. “Exactly. That’s 7 days. Do you know how long that is in dog years?”

His ever-present smile grew as he carded his fingers through Derek’s almost messy hair, tugging at the strands teasingly. “You’re not a dog, Der.”

“Dogs are people too, Stiles.”

His response was cut off as Derek leaned in, swallowing his words. He shook his head, but he opened his mouth, a moan vibrating through him when a warm sweet tongue licked into his mouth. He should be embarrassed, ashamed really, that he was acting like a sixteen-year-old, but he wasn’t. Two months and counting, and he knew he would never get tired of Derek’s everything.

His hugs.

His kisses.

His voice.

His words.

His thoughts.

His presence.

Malia said they were still their honeymoon phase, but Stiles knew better. He never felt this way about anyone, he never wanted to be with anyone as much as he wanted to be with Derek. It wasn’t a desperate need that clouded his judgement; it was a calling. Like a part of him wanted Derek there, felt stronger and comforted by Derek’s presence. Hell, he felt loved just by thinking about the other man, knowing he was thinking about Stiles, too.

He missed the man like crazy when he wasn’t around, but he felt comforted by the very thought of Derek when his job made it sometimes impossible for them to spend time together.

Derek’s fingers trailed up his waist, torturous and slow. Stiles’ lips left Derek’s with a pop and he poked the other man in the stomach, his finger meeting firm abs.

“Tickle me and there will be consequences.” He warned, his loving tone taking the edge away.

Derek smirked at him mischievously. “I won’t, unless you come with me to get some ice cream.”

“Oh my god, I am dating a child.”

Derek wrinkled his nose at Stiles, pulling away and drawing Stiles with him, looping an around his shoulders, their hands linking together. “Don’t make this gross.”

“Sorry.” Stiles turned and pressed a kiss to Derek’s cheek.

The sand sunk into his toes even through his flip flops. The sun was dipping slow, promising a beautiful sunset. The beach still quite full, but Stiles and Derek had found a nice secluded spot under the pier, where the water lapped gently, the view of the ocean was perfect, and no eyes could disturb them. It wasn’t completely private, but it was private enough that they didn’t traumatize anyone by their ‘sickly sweet disgusting love’ as Cora called it.

“You going to Malia’s thing next week?” Derek asked shaking off the sand in his shoes when they stepped on hard ground.

“I might. I can’t be for sure.” Stiles sighed sadly. Malia had gotten an approval on a bank loan to start up her own auto-repair shop, and Stiles knew it had been a dream of hers to run her own business where she could fix cars to her hearts content. He hated the idea that he couldn’t guarantee his appearance.

Lips pressed against the side of his head, nose brushing the hairline. “She’d understand. We all know you will try your best to get there and if you can’t it won’t be because of you, it will because of circumstances.”

Stiles looked up, meeting those still beautiful, still alluring green-grey eyes and pressed a sweet kiss to Derek’s lips. Their linked fingers tightened, and he was about to pull away when he felt his shoulder connect with something.

“Shit!” He pulled away from Derek and watched a woman stumbled a bit, his arms reaching to stop her possible fall. “Sorry, sorry. It’s my fault, I wasn’t looking and—”

His voice died when her blonde curls were shaken to reveal bright blue eyes which widened at the sight of him. His hands remained suspended in the air, and when he was sure she was safe, he dropped them and stepped back. A warm, grounding hand curled around his hip and Stiles sunk back into it.

“Stiles.” She said his name in disbelief as if the idea what he was there, right in front of her was so unbelievable. And he got that, because he’d never thought that out of all the place in the world to run into her, a beach was the last on his list.

He swallowed, feeling a small prick in his chest make itself known. “Diana. Hi.”

The hand on his hip flexed. “Uh,” She looked lost for a moment. “Uh, how’ve you been? How are things since…” Her blue eyes tightened with regret.

Stiles force a smile. “It’s been okay. I read your article about that drug cartel; saw you went to Mexico to get the details. Always the dare-devil.” He joked.

Her tense shoulder dropped as a small laugh left her. “Yeah, it was a huge opportunity.” Her eyes flickered down to where Derek’s hand rested on his hip and then up to the man himself.

Stiles turned and saw the serious mask Derek had on. He didn’t glare at her, he didn’t sneer or look at her differently, but Stiles could see the anger in his eyes and in the way he clenched his jaw.

“Uh, Diana, this is my boyfriend Derek. Derek, this is Diana.”

She swallowed at the word boyfriend. Neither of the made a move to shake the other’s hand.

He looked at her and blurted out. “How are things with you and, uh, him…?”

A despondent look crossed her face. “Uh, Mark and I didn’t work out.”

“Oh.” His stomach sunk a bit at that. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Are you?” She smiled at him sadly. “Are you really?”

Stiles frowned, “Of course.” He said sincerely. “I hated what you did but… I don’t wish any bad luck on you.”

He didn’t say but he was also sorry that in the end her actions weren’t worth it. She didn’t win out in the end and he suffered all for nothing. Well… His eyes glanced to Derek for a brief moment: Not for nothing.

Derek looked at him with soft eyes, his smile comforting and his touch understanding.

When Stiles returned his attention to Diana, he caught the way she looked between the two. “I’m happy for you, Stiles.”

“Thanks.”

She nodded and with a moment’s hesitation and parting smile, she turned and walked away from them. Derek tightened his hold on Stiles and turned them around, back in the direction they had been heading toward. Stiles wrapped an arm around Derek, curling into his side.

“You okay?”

Stiles paused, considering his feelings. With a relieved and grateful smile, he looked up, meeting warm eyes. “I’m happy.”

With a grin, Derek leaned down and pressed a kiss to his mouth. It was brief but the warm and peace that seeped through Stiles was not.

“So, what are you having?”

“Napoleon.”

“Really? You’re so cheap.”

“It’s three flavors for one. I am an opportunist.”

“He said with great pride.” Stiles mocked.

Derek shot him a look. “Hey, it worked with you.”

“Oh, it’s like that?”

They laughed and bantered all the way to the ice cream shop unbeknownst to the regretful eyes that started back at them.

**Author's Note:**

> Relationships:
> 
> \- Malia and Stiles were in a purely sexual relationship, which they ended because they realized they had become good friends and wanted to see if they need that aspect in their friendship. They didn't. and so they stopped having sex. 
> 
> * they are not in love with one another.
> 
> (In my opinion, I always liked the idea of Malia and Stiles being in a sex only relationship, because I felt they were the two people who won't fall in love with each other but still end up friends)
> 
> \- Scott give Isaac a blow job in High school before meeting Allison.
> 
> \- He dated Allison until the end of high school.
> 
> \- a few years later, Allison and Isaac started dating (They had been friends while Scott and Allison were dating)
> 
> \- Scott doesn't have a problem with the relationship.
> 
> -There is an attraction between Cora and Lydia, mainly from Cora's side, but it's not gonna go anywhere. Lydia is flattered by it.
> 
> I think that's it. <3


End file.
